


All your freedom, caffeine, how you're looking at me

by GleamingGreenGoggles



Series: Dizzy on caffeine / All your freedom, caffeine, how you're looking at me [2]
Category: Dream Team RPF, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GleamingGreenGoggles/pseuds/GleamingGreenGoggles
Summary: Sapnap is reaching the point of frog marching them both to the supply closet, locking them in, and telling them they're in there until they've gotten laid, and whilst that plan had been vetoed by Bad, screaming that there isn't enough bleach in the world and that he'd have to burn said supply closet down, they're getting desperate enough that even he's starting to come around to the idea...An alternate scene from "Dizzy on caffeine," where Sapnap follows through on his threat.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Dizzy on caffeine / All your freedom, caffeine, how you're looking at me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086509
Comments: 43
Kudos: 534





	All your freedom, caffeine, how you're looking at me

**Author's Note:**

> So it happened... we talked about it so much in the comments that I ended up writing it xD
> 
> This follows on from chapter 6 of "Dizzy on caffeine," so will make more sense if you've read up to there on that. It replaces chapter 7 entirely, and chapter 8 doesn't work properly after it, but chapter 9 is fine, just in case you want to fit it all together.
> 
> As a oneshot though, all you need to know is that George works at the coffee shop Dream visits, where they have been hopelessly and obviously pining after each other, and Bad and Sap have reached breaking point over neither of them making the first move. Also he's called by his real name in the first half because Dream is the nickname Sap and Bad gave him because of how hard George is crushing, and George keeps accidentally using it...
> 
> However you're reading it though, enjoy, and Happy New Year!

It’s about five minutes until closing, and the shop is practically empty - Bad is cleaning tables, George is out back in the office, and Sapnap is behind the counter, doing the final load for the dishwasher and clearing out the pastry cabinet. There’s a definite air of ‘ready to shut’ about the place that most people usually recognise, steering clear rather than risking being _That Person_. After all, the shop keeps much longer hours than most places, allowing study groups and non-drinkers somewhere to go after office hours, so there really isn’t much of an excuse.

Clay, though, isn’t most people.

“You’re here late,” Sapnap says, skipping the pleasantries.

Clay shrugs. “You’re still open, aren’t you?”

“ _Just_...” Sapnap answers, mildly unimpressed, but Clay just smiles. “You off somewhere, or got an all nighter planned?”

“Nah, absolutely nothing,” Clay says. “Just thought I’d swing by.”

 _To see George,_ is the unspoken second half of that sentence. But...

 _Huh_ , Sapnap thinks. _This could be convenient._

“What can I get ya then.”

“How about a mocha, considering how late it is.”

“Sure,” and Sapnap rings him up.

George clearly hasn’t heard Clay arrive, because he’s still in the office, rather than immediately appearing at the counter and pretending to be productive, and utterly failing to disguise the fact that he’s just there to flirt. _Even better._

“Hey Bad, can you come here a sec?” Sap calls.

“Yes?” answers Bad, joining Sapnap by the coffee machine.

Sap glances over his shoulder to see Dream fiddling aimlessly with his phone and not paying them much attention, so he drops his voice. “I need you to keep George in the office for a moment.”

Bad keeps his voice low to match. “Why?”

“We have an opportunity.”

“We do? For what?”

Sap flicks his eyes to the side, towards Clay, and watches Bad realise what he’s talking about.

“ _Sapnap!_ ” he almost whispers. “You don’t really-?”

“I’m serious, I’m going insane, don’t tell me you’re not.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Yeah but _nothing_. Keep George out back until I tell you, then send him to the closet. I’ll handle this one.”

Bad sighs, but has already given in, dumping his cleaning cloths and heading to the office.

That took far less convincing than Sapnap expected...

He finishes up the drink, circling the top with a neat spiral of whipped cream and a dusting of chocolate, and hands it to Clay with his warmest smile.

“Hey Clay, can I ask a favour? Seeing as you’re keeping us open…”

“…sure?”

“You’re stupid tall, can you grab me something off the top shelf in the store room? Our, erm, ladder’s broken, and if I can avoid risking my life for a bag of beans…”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Clay replies, sounding surprised at how simple the request is.

“Cool, thanks man. Follow me!”

*

George has no idea why Bad can’t get his own cleaning supplies from the closet, especially when he had time to loiter by the door like that, but he’s too tired to care right now, so he saves the spreadsheet and stands up, heading out of the office.

The door is already open, and George is just about to squat down to rummage through the boxes when a shove at his back makes him stumble forward, crashing into… someone’s chest? Someone who catches him at the same time that George catches himself, their hands on his waist, and George’s hands bunched in the front of their hoodie.

“…hi?” says Clay.

The door slams shut behind him, but George doesn’t notice, brain entirely offline.

 _Oh boy,_ George can literally smell Clay’s aftershave or whatever it is, and Clay is warm, and solid, and _hngh_. He does _not_ want to move.

“Clay?” George squeaks, staring up at Clay. Clay, whose chest he’s pressed right up against.

Then George realises quite what he’s doing, and he practically leaps backwards.

“Oh my god, _Clay_ , what the hell are you doing in here?”

“I’m… not sure,” Clay says. “Sapnap asked me to grab something for him, then the next thing I know, you’re falling into my arms,” Clay laughs, already sounding wheezy with amusement.

George kinda wants to die of sheer mortification.

Thankfully though, he can change the subject pretty quickly.

“Wait what, why did Sapnap ask you for something from in here?”

“Apparently because you lot are too short.”

“ _Hey_.”

Clay shrugs, wheezing a laugh at George’s indignation. “I mean, you _are…_ Clearly I just spend so much time here that he’s decided I should help out. But he left like straight away, and then, as I said, you fell into my arms.”

“Oh god shut up,” George mutters, and goes to open the door.

Except it doesn’t budge.

“Er.”

“What?”

“I can’t open the door. You try.”

Clay tries the handle, but the door stays shut. “I think it’s locked…” he says.

George frowns. Then he hammers the side of his fist on the door. “Hey! Sapnap! Bad! Hey!”

“What?” calls back Sap.

“I think the door’s locked itself somehow? Can you let us out?”

“Er, no.”

George blinks at the door. “No??”

“It’s for your own good.” Sapnap’s voice is now much closer to the store room door.

“ _What_ is?? BAD!!” and George pounds on the door.

“I can’t help you here!” Bad calls back, sounding more than slightly guilty.

“You two are staying in there until you sort yourselves out,” Sapnap answers.

“Wait, two of us?” Clay asks, bemused, at the same time as George says, “Sort _what_ out??”

“Yes, both of you, you’re as bad as each other,” Sapnap says. “And you know exactly what I mean, George.”

“Oh my god,” George says. “Seriously??”

“Seriously!” Bad calls back.

In frustration, George slams his shoulder against the door, but it doesn’t budge, and all he does is give himself what is sure to be a decent sized bruise.

“ _Ow_ ,” he mutters, and lets his forehead fall against the door with a thunk and exhales, long and noisy. “Okay, so I know my colleagues have literally locked you in a cupboard against your will, but please don’t sue us for false imprisonment, I need this job,” George says.

Clay huffs. “That depends on how long they keep us in here.”

George groans, turning around and sliding down the door to sit on the floor. “Tell me you have some important deadline or something that we can use to change their minds.”

“’Fraid not. I even told Sapnap that.” Clay exhales sharply. “Explains why he asked, at least.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

The light overhead is dim and a strange colour, washing out George’s already pale skin, but somehow not having the same effect on Clay. _Of course,_ George thinks, _of course he’s still bloody gorgeous_. And now they’re stuck in here. The closet is big enough for them to have a few feet between them, even with George now on the floor and the shelves on every wall, but it’s still pretty cramped. He’s grateful he’s not claustrophobic, at least.

Wait.

“You’re not claustrophobic, are you?” George asks, looking up, but Clay seems supremely unbothered.

“No,” Clay answers, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well that’s a relief at least.” George sighs.

They slide into silence, George staring at the ceiling, and Clay’s eyes flicking disinterestedly over the shelves.

“So…” Clays says.

“So what?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look like we’re getting out of here in the next five minutes.”

George lets his head thump back against the door.

“At least I got my drink first,” Clay shrugs.

George groans again. “I’m going to kill them, I’m literally going to commit murder.”

“I’ll help,” Clay says, and George huffs a laugh.

“How long do we give them before I threaten to call the police?” Clay asks. George can’t help but cringe - he’d really rather get out of this whole ridiculous situation without actually getting any authorities involved.

“Maybe until you finish your drink?” George suggests, uncertainly.

“Alright,” Clay says, and leans back against the shelves, picking up his drink and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

George sighs, and stares into space. _Great_. He’s pretty certain what his so-called friends are hoping for by locking them in there, but with luck, they’ll give up if he doesn’t rise to it. He doesn’t think he could bear the humiliation of the inevitable refusal if he even tried.

 _God_ he hopes they’ll give up. Unfortunately, if this is Sapnap’s idea, it’s not looking good. The guy can be stubborn as all hell when he gets an idea into his head.

George sighs again, and digs out his phone to scroll through twitter, just to give himself something to do.

This is probably the longest he and Clay have been around each other uninterrupted, and it should be weird, it should be _really_ weird, considering, well, _everything_. Especially since they’re essentially ignoring each other right now. Which is... not like them. But it sort of isn’t. It’s oddly comfortable - George knows he should be far more anxious than he currently is, but...

George realises that he has precisely no idea what he’s been reading on his phone, so it goes back into his pocket.

“How’s your drink?” George asks, just for something to break the silence. “What did you get?”

Clay glances up, and stuffs his own phone away. “It’s a mocha,” he says, and takes what appears to be the last swig, tipping it right up and draining the dregs before putting it down on the shelf beside him. “And it’s empty now.”

Confusingly, George finds himself almost disappointed that this is already over.

“Okay. Shall I...?” George jerks his head at the door behind him.

“Might as well.”

George scrambles to his feet and bangs on the door again. “Bad, Sap, c’mon, this isn’t funny, open the door.”

“Nuhuh!” he hears Sap call back.

“Sap, _please_.”

Neither Sapnap nor Bad answer, but after a few moments George’s phone vibrates in his pocket.

 _‘go get your man, gogy’_ the message says.

Oh _god_. It _really_ doesn’t look like there’s any getting out of this.

“Please kill me,” George mutters.

“What is it?”

“Nothing!” George panics, and shoves his phone in his pocket. He turns round, and Clay is looking closely at him. George can’t help himself - he goes bright red under the scrutiny.

Clay narrows his eyes. “What did they say.”

“They didn’t say anything.” George wishes he was a better liar.

“Yes they did.” Clay's eyes narrow further, and then get a strange glint. “You know what we have to do to get out of here, don’t you.”

“No!”

“George...” Dream’s voice drops, and the effect it has on George just isn’t fair. “Tell me.”

“Let’s just wait, yeah? They’ll get bored when we don’t do anything and just let us out.”

“ _When we don’t do anything,_ huh?” Clay echoes, knowingly.

_Fu-u-uck._

George watches as Clay’s expression changes, smile turning mischievous.

“Uh.”

When Clay crosses the tiny space between them, the only word that springs to George’s mind is _‘stalking’_ , even though that shouldn’t be possible in a fucking cupboard. Up this close, he’s even taller than he seems across the counter. Even in the dim, strange light George can see every freckle scattered across his face, and George drags his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to not lick his lips instead.

Clay’s eyes are huge, and George can’t help how his own eyes flick between Clay’s eyes and mouth, feeling his heart rate skyrocket.

Clay must notice, because his grin goes _feral_.

“I don’t think I need to see that message anymore, do I,” he says.

George is beyond being able to stumble through half-truths right now, not when Clay is looking at him like he wants to eat him alive. “Probably not,” he admits, trying to keep his voice steady as his stomach twists upside down. “I think you have the right general idea.”

Clay steps impossibly closer, close enough that George can feel the heat radiating off him.

“Is this ok?” Clay asks, voice suddenly softer, and gently, ever so gently, puts his hand on George’s cheek, running his thumb over his cheekbone. George practically melts into the touch. “Tell me if it’s not.” His other hand comes to George’s waist, and the warmth of it seeps almost immediately through his shirt.

“ _Dream_ ,” George whines.

Clay’s hand freezes on George’s cheek, and George’s eyes fly open.

 _Shit_ , George thinks.

“Fuck,” he says out loud. “I didn’t mean…”

Clay is looking down at him, smirking, and he chuckles, still low and slightly dark.

“Trust me, I do not mind.”

“Really?”

“ _Really_ ,” Clay repeats. “I insist.”

“…oh. Well then,” and George fists his hands into the front of Dream’s hoodie again, surging up onto his tiptoes to press their lips together.

If George was thinking about it, the storage closet at his work is the least romantic place to have a first kiss with anyone, let alone someone he’s been crushing on for a depressingly long time. He’s still in his uniform, his apron tied around his waist, and he’s been on his feet almost non-stop for the past eight hours. Right now though, none of that matters, not when he’s got one hand buried in Dream’s soft almost-curls, and the other now draped around his neck, not when Dream’s hands move from his waist to wrap around him, tight enough to lift him almost beyond tiptoes. There’s the taste of Dream’s now-finished mocha on his lips and his tongue, and George’s breath is coming in near-gasps, when he can catch it, heart rate ratcheting up even further.

Eventually a combination of their enthusiasm and how weak George’s legs have gone have them ending up leant against the inside of the door, George practically pinned beneath Dream’s weight, and _oh_ that’s _nice_.

George untangles his arms from Dream’s neck, and yanks at the strings on his apron as best he can without breaking the kiss, tugging it off and discarding it carelessly. With it gone, Dream has access under George’s shirt, and his hands slide up onto the bare skin, sending a shiver up George’s whole body. He can feel Dream’s grin against his lips, big enough that it stops them for a moment, noses still touching, breath heaving.

George will never admit that he whimpers.

“Mmm,” Dream chuckles lowly, leaning down to drag his lips up George’s neck, whose noise turns into a gasp and into another high-pitched keening sound, and Dream makes his own lower, impatient noise. “You are definitely not fair,” he says, hips grinding almost involuntarily into George’s, who gasps again.

“Why not?” George smirks breathlessly, and Dream groans.

“Because we’re still locked in a storage closet, with your colleagues outside, and you sound like that already.”

George keeps smirking. “Would serve them right,” he says, fingers tightening in Dreams’ hair, “if they got to hear the rest of it.”

Dream laughs again, his usual wheeze now lower and _wanting_. “Yes, but,” and he leans down to George’s ear, words a warm puff that make George shudder again, “if we’re going to carry on, I’d prefer a sofa at the very least. And it’s you, I’ve waited pretty long already, I can wait a bit more so it’s worth it.” Then he nips his teeth into George’s neck, and George doesn’t have chance to hold back the half gasp, half moan, both far too high pitched and too loud to be subtle.

George almost topples backwards, only Dream’s quick reactions keeping him upright, as the door that they were leaning against is flung open.

“ _Okay okay you can go!”_ squeals Bad, his hands over his ears. “ _Please_ go!”

George can hear Sapnap cackling from the other room, and he can feel himself flushing scarlet in embarrassment.

Then he looks over his shoulder, and Dream is just as flushed, hair just as messy, hoodie slightly askew and looking both incredibly smug and almost as self-conscious as George currently feels.

George can’t fight the grin.

“You guys are closing up,” he announces, ducking down to grab his apron from where it was abandoned on the closet floor before looking straight back at Dream. “I have plans tonight now.”

Dream grins, stepping forward to slip his arm around George’s waist and tip him backwards into almost a dip as he kisses him, forcing George to hold on for dear life as he tries not to giggle. Bad squeaks again, spinning around and covering his eyes, whilst Sap makes a retching noise and retreats into the office.

“My place or yours?” Dream murmurs, voice low and sultry.

“If you keep talking like that we’re going back into the cupboard,” George snipes back.

“My place it is,” Dream grins, putting George back on his feet, taking his hand, and almost dragging him out of the shop.

They don’t stay long enough to hear Bad and Sapnap bickering over whether scarring Bad for life was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Help me please I'm running out of Glass Animals lyrics about caffeine


End file.
